Number 27
by Arianna Koz
Summary: "I still haven't forgotten the one man we weren't able to save. I haven't forgotten number 27."
1. Chapter 1

_"I still haven't forgotten the one man we weren't able to save. I haven't forgotten number 27."_ A bit of context: In Ignite Me, Juliette goes into the compound with Kenji and Adam during a battle and they see some soldiers rounding up people to execute. 27 people, to be exact. The trio eventually rescues the civilians from the soldiers, but not before they've shot one man. Number 27.

Ever since I read that line, I've wanted to write number 27's story. And I've also really wanted to write about life in the compounds since we know so little about them.

Being as this is in the compounds, it's all pretty much OCs. So if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to just not read this.

Disclaimer: I am not Tahereh Mafi and therefore Shatter Me is not mine.

* * *

I knew I was dead the minute I saw my good-for-nothing brother walking down the street. He was supposed to be at work at the textile factory by now. Leave it to him to join the idiots of this Sector who think skipping work will change anything. Though, in a way, they ARE right. Death is certainly a change from the norm, though not by much here in the compounds. Maybe after living so close to death day after day, he's decided he doesn't care. But that doesn't mean it's his decision to make.

He doesn't see me until I'm just a few paces away. He turns to me with a big stupid grin on his face

"Hey, brother! Fancy seeing—" I cut him off mid-greeting with a swift punch in the face. "Ow! What the hell, J?"

"I could say the same thing to you. Why the hell aren't you at the factory?" I ask.

"You know why."

Shaking my head, I turn to leave. It was a mistake to go over to him. But before I can walk away, I feel his hand on my arm. Reluctantly, I turn back to face him

"J, come on. Things are changing, can't you feel it? The Reestablishment can't stand forever and now these rebel attacks are changing things here. Things are gonna be better now. I just need to be a part of it, you know? Be part of the change and all that." My blank stare is obviously not what my older brother was expecting because he asks me, "What's wrong, J?"

For a long moment, I don't answer. The silence hangs between us, heavy. After what seems like hours, I speak.

"Don't call me J." I spit, "That's what my brother used to call me. But I don't have a brother anymore. Because now, in my eyes, you're just a dead man walking. And it's great that you feel all this hope and shit. It's real great for you. I just hope you still feel it when Clarissa and the kids are shot right in front of your face and I hope you still feel it when they take the time to tell you that I'm next, right before they kill you too. Because otherwise all that hope isn't worth shit." I turned and walked away from my brother—for what would likely be the last time—and headed to work. And after work? I'd head home to my family for what would likely be the last time. Unless.

Unless the rumours were true.

Unless Warner really did spare the soldier-thief's family.

Unless hope wasn't so crazy after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun had barely risen when the screams began. I sighed. The screams of the innocent men and women being dragged off to face their death was a common occurrence here. They no longer gave me nightmares. In the early days of the Reestabishment, those same screams would keep me up for days. They were a lot less frequent then.

Sarah had woken up too, but the kids were still sound asleep. This was all they knew. They knew nothing of life before the Reestablishment. Sometimes I envied their ignorance. SometimesI didn't. Depends on my mood. Today, I was practically green with envy. I watched Sarah groggily look out of our 'home'. Our container happened to be on the bottom, near the door. We got lucky, I suppose. Sarah had always seemed to think it was better to know who we were losing, she always went to see who it was. I was of a different opinion. Especially because that could be us one day soon. Unless my brother was right, unless things were changing. I hadn't told Sarah yet, about what J had done. Honestly, I don't know if I ever will. Maybe death is better as a surprise.

I wasn't paying Sarah any attention as she stood at the door, until I heard her muffled sob. She had her hand over her mouth so that her sobs wouldn't wake everyone else still sleeping. I went to the door and froze on the spot when I looked out.

Seamus' wife was fighting the soldiers dragging her away. Didn't she know it was better not to fight? Then I saw the children. Not crying, or looking around in bewilderment. They were flopped over the soldier's shoulders. Unconscious. Or dead. I had to look away. How could I have forgotten that hope was not my friend? That it was nothing but a backstabbing idiot that lived to destroy me? My only hope for my own family was being dragged away with Seamus'.

Sarah turned her tear streaked face towards me, and I had to hide my tears and pretend to be her ever-stoic husband she was so used to. Valerie, Seamus' wife, is a good friend of hers. Or was, now. I felt a soft tug on my pant leg. It was Mel. She must have woken up just now.

"Papi?" she asked, her question clear. I tried to maneuver around it.

"Jonathan and Jacob are gone." I explained. She nodded. She was used to this. In her world, if someone was here one day and gone the next, well, that's just how life went.

"Guess I'll have to find a new partner today." she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, complete with a shrug of her shoulders. This provoked more tears from Sarah. Mel had started walking away, but she turned back at the sound of her mother's tears. She wrapped her arms around Sarah's upper leg, the best hug she could give at her age.

"Don't worry, Mommy. None of _us_ are gone." In her sweet, sing-song voice, it was almost comforting. Sarah nodded and bent down to return her hug. I wish she hadn't, because then she might have missed what Mel said next. "And even if we were, we'd all be gone together."

* * *

So, I sort of forgot about this story... Sorry about that! But it's back and improved (a little) and I promise I'll have a new chapter up by the end of the week.

Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I haven't read the series in a little while, and I don't have my copies for reference. So this story might get just a little OC, in terms of what they have and don't have in the compounds.

* * *

I haven't seen J in the past little while. That's not entirely abnormal, but it still makes me nervous. I consider just getting it over with and going to his unit, but I can't bring myself to do it. Sarah has started to notice something is up as I get more and more anxious. At work, I get reprimanded for losing focus. Telling myself that what will happen will happen whether I worry or not doesn't help. My thoughts are only on my brother, and Clarissa, and the rest of his family.

The dirt of the compound swirls around my feet as I kick at the ground and sticks to the hem of my pants. The sun is beginning to lower and people are walking home from work at the factories, through the shipping container jungle. The chaos that is our home, Sector 45. The low mumble of conversation is audible, but I can't hear any words. People have gotten paranoid here. No one trusts anyone anymore. We tell our closest friends meaningless things and tell strangers nothing. We're all worried that we'll rat each other out if it came down to it. And so we try to take our downfall into our own hands by imprisoning our treasonous thoughts in our own heads, as if we have control over our destiny. Because of this, the voice of a little boy shouting pulls me out of my reverie. At first, I brush it off as an over-excited child. Maybe their parents have managed to scrape up enough to get him a small gift. I frown; I haven't given my kids anything in awhile, thought I'd like to. But then I realize that the boy is running straight towards me

"Hey, mister! Mister! Over here!" The boy is calling out to me. I speed up to close the distance between us. People are already looking and there's no point in attracting attention.

"Yes?"

The boy stands there panting for a second. He must have run a long way. Before the Reestablishment, I would have assumed he was just unathletic, the type that stayed inside all day in front of the TV. Now, the thought doesn't even occur to me. Lazy kids are a thing of the past. I try to remind myself of that whenever I feel particularly mad at the government. Not everything is worse. Just almost everything.

The kid was still trying to catch his breath but started talking anyway. "My... neighbour... he told me to tell you...if the soldiers came."

It felt like every single organ in my body plummeted to my feet. I had spent so much time worrying and now... "Who's your neighbour?"

The kid scrunched up his face. "You are J, aren't you?" I only nodded as my world fell apart. If I opened my mouth, nothing but sobs would come out. The kid had started to walk away but turned back around after a few steps. "Oh, and he also said to say he's sorry. That you were right that it wasn't his choice?" He's not sure he's getting the message right, I can tell. He shrugs his shoulders and walks away.

And I fall to my knees, and cry and cry and cry, not caring who sees.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah looks up at me from the stove and nearly drops her stirring spoon when she sees me. I tried to fix myself up as much as possible, but she's always known me so well. I'm usually so careful about keeping myself clean and today I can't hide the dirt all over my pants, my shirt, even my hair. And though I tried to school my expression back to its usual indifference, somehow I fear that grief is not something you can erase from your face. I'm slouching too. I straighten up and walk towards her as if nothing was wrong. Her hands are on me immediately, checking for cuts or bruises. I close my eyes and don't say anything, leaning my forehead against hers as her hands fall still. I will miss this. Neither of us say anything at first. A single tear escapes and runs down my cheek. I am immensely grateful the kids are not here right now. She startles as the tear hits her hand resting on my cheek.

Her grip tightens and she tilts my head upright so that we are eye to eye. "Jason." She says simply.

"I know. Just... just give me a moment." I say. I hadn't expected this to be quite so hard.

She steps back wordlessly and stares at me. This is her way of giving me space. I'm struck all of a sudden by this image of her. The determined look on her face, one hand on her hip and the other holding her wooden stirring spoon. Her wispy light brown hair pulled up in a bun and the roughness of her clothes. She is the picture of strength. The strength that I have always lacked. Maybe now I can be the strong one for once.

"We need to leave." Part of this is a lie. But I need her to agree with me.

She doesn't move, doesn't flinch. _That's my girl_ , I think with pride. "Leave?"

"My brother, Clarissa ... they're gone." I've gotten so used to the euphemism, the words just tumble out. Gone. If only it were as simple as that.

Sarah's face collapses and I wish I could take the words back. I wish I could save her from the pain. But I never have, and I never will. Pain is ever-present in our lives. It came with the Reestablishment, and moved into our lives , into our homes, into the air we breathe, into our very hearts. And so we will aways carry it with us.

With a nod, she gives the contents of the pot one last stir, then takes it off the heat. I watch as she starts to fold up her few clothes and make a pile of her few possessions. Something makes her look up at me. She gives me a sad smile and beckons me over to her. I'm sure if I was to cry, she would just hold me until I stop. But I won't cry. I promised myself after I got up from the ground what felt like hours ago. So instead I lean over a plant a gentle kiss on her lips. And then she's kissing me back and we both forget for just a little while longer.

By the time the girls come back, it's dark outside and we are already packed to go. Any other day, I'd reprimand them for being late. But tonight, I just kiss them on the head and tell them I love them. Dani doesn't suspect anything, but I know Mel does. My little Mel was always too smart for her own good.

The girls are doing one last sweep of the unit and I join them half-heartedly. I can't imagine we have anything worth keeping.

We're standing at the door, waiting. For what, no one of us knows. Sarah seems to get a sign from somewhere because she turns towards me. My heart is beating a million miles per hour. If this doesn't work, all I've done is wasted our last few hours together. Sarah seems to understand because she gives my hand a comforting squeeze. _Everything will work out fine,_ it says.

I press a scrap of paper into her hand and whisper in her ear. "Run, Sarah. Run until dawn, then read this. If they—" My voice breaks, but I continue. "If they catch you first, swallow it." For a long second, she doesn't say anything. Her head slides down to my shoulder and I think about how nice a picture this would have been, back in the days when we still had cameras. A husband and wife, leaning lovingly upon each other with their two beautiful daughters holding hands in front of them. I take a mental snapshot and vow to keep it until my last breath. Not much of a vow, considering, but I'm told it's the thought that counts.

I miss her warmth as she breaks away from me and picks up the girls' hands. They take a step forward, and Sarah turns back to me. I can see the doubt on her face, the indecision. I smile and give her a soft kiss. "Go," I say. "I'll catch up to you." I lie. "I love you." I add, though I'm sure they already know.

And then they run. The three most important people in my world flee into the night. I stand there watching long after they've disappeared, thinking about the last words I've left them with. The words in my note.

 _If I stay here, you get one more day. 24 more hours. 1440 more minutes. 86400 more seconds. 86400 more chances to make it. 86400 more chances to outrun the fate forced upon you. To me, that is worth my every breath. Run, my loves. Run, and never stop. I love you._


End file.
